Firefly
by La Fortuna
Summary: No matter how hard her father tried to make Hotaru healthy, the attempts had failed, partially because the carrier could never convince herself that what had happened was meant to be, that she was destined to live, that a body could recuperate despite wha
1. Chapter 1

  
Title: Firefly  
Author: La Fortuna  
Email: linxl@mail.com  
Chapter 1/?  
Rating: PG-13   
July 05, 2001  
  
Disclaimer: SM does not belong to me.  
But the story dies. Try to take it, and  
-d-i-e- an agonizing death. -_-  
  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
The fireflies are truly one of the most   
Delightful creatures to grace the world,   
Hotaru thought with a wistful sigh. She   
sat outside on a roughened wooden bench   
beside the pond situated at the edge of   
the university campus, her dark brown   
eyes directed forward looking across the   
small body of water. In this light, her   
eyes appeared lavender as they reflected   
the darkening rouge of the sky.  
  
  
  
It was twilight hour, the time of the day   
when the setting sun had just cast its last   
few rays upon the earth, the radiant   
celestial body now just below the horizon.   
The fireflies must have instinctively known   
it was time to leave their resting places   
during the day, as more and more of them   
appeared with the fading light and the   
approaching darkness. Each was so small,   
so fragile, Hotaru smiled to herself.   
Each one, a luminescent beetle, a   
lightning bug emitting flashes of reddish-  
orange light. The smaller ones with   
flashes that occurred more frequently  
than those of the larger, more mature   
ones.   
  
  
  
What was it that she had learned when she   
was younger in Tokyo about these beloved   
little insects? That they existed as larvae,   
vulnerable and delicate, before becoming   
the flying beings that they were now? The   
light played a role in sexual attraction   
between members of the opposite sex, didn't   
it? These nocturnal creatures that coalesced   
during the night, dancing and flitting with   
each other in a game of procreation? And that   
they died... as easily destroyed as a paper   
crane could be crushed?   
  
  
  
Tokyo, she remembered, her birthplace, a city   
whose people revered these lightning bugs with   
a deference rarely owed to any other insect.   
Tokyo, a place that existed not so far in her   
past. A haunting place, filled with vague and   
bloodymemories, frightening nightmares too.   
But then there were the good things as well:   
caring friends, adoptive parents... the   
experiences she remembered fondly as a child.  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
Hotaru wasn't a child anymore. She had lost   
her childhood the first time around. As a   
toddler, she enjoyed running around her   
father's laboratory at the University of   
Tokyo, glancing around, playing hide-and-  
seek with the lab assistants. There were   
the cell cultures, the hazardous-looking   
machinery, and here and there, the   
prevalent presence of data sheets and   
computer screens.   
  
  
What is that there? she would ask.   
  
Her father would respond, Oh, it's just a   
mainframe for the Cray computer, my dear.   
Don't touch it for fear that your hands   
will press a button and all of Daddy's   
information will be lost.   
  
Oh, she would smile, her naturally   
inquisitive nature satisfied for the time   
being, and then she would float away to ask   
another question of one of the assistants.   
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
She had just turned her fourth birthday a   
week past when Mommy took her to visit   
Daddy's laboratory one more time before the   
weekend. Hotaru was so happy, rejoicing   
over her gifts from her parents and friends,   
by chance wearing one of those said gifts   
on her tiny frame. She was anxious to see   
her father and show him the lovely dress   
that she had received from her great-aunt.   
She whirled in her gown of violets before   
reaching the entrance to the lab and then   
waited for her mother to help her open the   
doors with handles too high for her to   
reach. Her mother smiled, picked up her   
daughter within her arms, and gave Hotaru a   
peck on the cheek before twisting the knob   
and opening the door. She barely opened her   
mouth to greet her husband with loving   
words when an explosion occurred within the   
laboratory.  
  
  
It was like, an observer of the destruction   
would say later before news reporters, a bomb   
had exploded or as if an earthquake had   
happened and the epicenter was located where   
the building once stood. The center of the   
laboratory, which was located on the first   
floor of the building, where the immediate   
explosion occurred was obliterated first,   
then the immediate surroundings were   
destroyed, and then a small mushroom-like   
cloud appeared above the remains of the   
structure that had collapsed. The huge cement   
blocks and steel skeleton that had once   
supported the structure had broken down,   
streams of smoke rose from the ruins.   
  
  
Any ideas how this could have happened?   
Anything else that you heard, saw, or   
learned? The reporters asked, anxious for   
clues.   
  
  
No, the observer replied. I don't know   
anything, except that it might have been a   
failed experiment. But... I did hear a   
scream though, a desperate scream. And then,   
silence. But only a few minutes after, it   
seemed like there was a child among the   
ruins.   
  
  
Then, the observer paused for several moments   
before speaking again.  
  
  
He murmured quietly, almost inaudibly,   
it sounded like a child was crying.  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
AN: The basis of this fanfic is loosely based   
on what happened in the anime/manga by Naoko   
Takuechi. While there are great similarities   
in events, I have taken many liberties in   
interpretation and creation. I'm not entirely   
sure where I'm going with this fic, but it   
seems to be writing itself so far. O_o;;   
  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  



	2. Chapter 2

  
Title: Firefly  
Chapter 2/?  
Author: La Fortuna  
Rating: PG-13   
July 06, 2001  
  
  
Disclaimer: SM does not belong to me.  
But the story dies. Try to take it, and  
-d-i-e- an agonizing death. -_-  
  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
Hotaru didn't remember anything that   
happened for two years after the accident.   
Her mind was clouded, and the string of   
pictures of that time period that she did   
somehow recall was all blurred. The people   
and objects that did appear in those images   
were unrecognizable. Whatever had happened   
in the laboratory was not something that   
she could remember; the following events   
of the explosion were things she could   
not describe.  
  
  
Professor Tomoe had not been inside the   
laboratory like his wife had expected;   
he had not died been at the accident site   
and had not perished with the rest of his   
colleagues. His wife, however, never   
received the opportunity to voice those   
loving words to her husband, and she died,   
crushed and mangled by the fallen cement   
blocks of the building. How, then, did   
Hotaru survive when she had been cradled   
by the arms of her mother at the time of   
the explosion? A miracle, her father   
explained to her with teary eyes and a   
soothing rub on the back. He had arrived   
at the scene immediately before the   
firefighters and found his daughter near   
her mother's body, all bloodied and broken.   
  
  
  
Barely breathing.  
  
  
  
But I should have died, Hotaru constantly   
thought to herself, when she learned her   
father's explanation when she was six years   
old. Her injuries had been fatal, she was   
sure of that, despite the apparent memory   
lapse she suffered. Broken bones, surely,   
but she must have suffered more than that.   
The lost of too much blood for a girl her   
age and size ... her heart had probably   
stopped beating. Brain dead, for all   
intents and purposes. She wasn't supposed   
to be on this earth, she knew, and Hotaru   
would continue thinking that for the next   
seven years.   
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
Nevertheless, the young girl who knew she   
shouldn't have survived did so, if for the   
sole reason that her father made a pact -   
one her father never intended for her to   
find out about. In order to make sure she   
wouldn't die then and there at the   
explosion site, Hotaru's father had sold   
himself to demonical creatures, and with   
that, the body of his daughter. It was his   
daughter's body that became the host to a   
parasite, an entity whose soul was   
blackened. The entity would fester within   
the recesses of its hosts mind for the   
next several years to come, waiting for   
the moment its pharaoh would call for its   
assistance. But for now, it would gather  
strength, seeping whatever energy it could   
tax from this young body. An energy, this   
entity was actually surprised to discover,   
that far exceeded whatever it should have   
expected from the normal human being.   
  
  
  
Hotaru's body, unused to this foreign   
alien within, had at first tried to create   
antibodies to combat the unfamiliar   
presence, but the entity slowly and   
steadily shut down its hosts immune   
systems, knowing the host's father would  
make sure his daughter wouldn't die no   
matter what. Over the years, the body,   
meant to die instantaneously alongside   
the mother whose womb had nurtured it,   
failed continuously in its function.   
Hotaru's father, overwrought and   
desperate for his only child, resorted to   
his science to keep her alive.   
  
  
  
Machinery.   
  
Complex structures of silicone chips,   
steel, wire, and plastic.   
  
  
  
Beginning at the age of four, parts of her   
body had been steadily replaced by   
artificial devices: a steady, beating   
machine for her heart; two compartments   
for her lungs; a digestive tract to replace   
her intestines - useless really, since   
Hotaru now depended on that Lorenzo's oil   
her father provided for energy; fingers to  
take over the decrepit ones; legs to   
function in place of the ones whose   
muscles had atrophied. Only the eyes   
remained, so deep in color that they looked   
lavender, the tongue, and Hotaru's brain,   
the control center for her actions. The   
eyes preserved so that they could still see   
with the vision of a human being instead of  
a cyborg; the tongue so that the child   
could still taste the richness of the foods   
the body no longer needed; the brain so  
that she could still think and maintain   
the essence of what was Hotaru.   
  
  
Yet, no matter how hard Professor Tomoe tried   
to make Hotaru appear and feel normal and   
healthy, the attempts failed, partially   
because the carrier could never convince   
herself that what had happened was meant to   
be, that she was destined to live, that a   
body could recuperate time and time again   
despite that modern physicians deemed it   
impossible.   
  
  
  
Hotaru was frail then in appearance,   
as fragile as a firefly.  
  
  
  
Since the accident, her father had persuaded   
her to live out the life of any other child   
her age. Go to school! Eat that ice cream!   
Go play hopscotch, her father would exclaim.   
Just don't go swimming for fear that   
something will go wrong, don't extend   
yourself too much because things might short-  
circuit, don't say too much about the   
accident, make sure you return in time for   
me to provide you with the nutrients you   
need!   
  
  
  
Every little freedom that was permitted to   
her was set back by some kind of warning.   
Two steps forward, two steps back. Progress   
was never truly made.  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
Hotaru did go to elementary school and junior   
high, and she did it the only way that her   
father felt possible - the best way, through   
the prestigious Mugen Gakuen school network.  
Her father, a well-known and established   
professor in the nation of Japan and the   
entire Asian continent, had easily paved a   
passageway for her to travel into the campus   
of the Mugen Gakuen elites.   
  
  
Mugen Gakuen Academy, the school for the   
children of Fortune 500 CEOs, for the   
brilliant virtuosos at the violins and the   
pianos, for the mastermind geniuses who   
excelled at what they did - a place where   
power politics and social conventions   
thrived in full force, just as much as it   
did in the government offices of Tokyo and   
the ancient palace gardens of Kyoto. Hotaru   
arrived at the elementary school in the   
third grade at age seven. It was a year   
after the cloud had lifted from her   
memories, enough time for the outward   
appearance of her artificial epidermis to   
acquire the semblance of real skin.   
It was, her father thought, enough time   
for the child to get used to using her   
synthetic limbs.  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  



	3. Chapter 3

  
Title: Firefly  
Chapter 3/?  
Author: La Fortuna  
Rating: PG-13   
July 08-09, 2001  
  
  
Disclaimer: SM does not belong to me.  
But the story dies. Try to take it, and  
-d-i-e- an agonizing death. -_-  
  
AN: The grammar may be a bit confusing,  
mainly because I'm jumping around in the  
timeline or I'm trying some sort of e.e.   
cummings rip-off. But then again, I   
don't have much of a grasp on English   
grammar (i.e. the past tenses), so I'm  
trying to dodge it. =) I'll learn it   
well, someday, eventually. Also, in the   
future, I might consolidate the  
chapters... less chapters, more content  
in each.   
  
Thank you guys for all the reviews! It's   
greatly appreciated. =)  
  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
For each remaining year of her education at   
the elementary school at the Mugen Gakuen   
Academy, a chauffeur drove Hotaru to and fro   
the gated school entrances. The driver made   
sure his temporary ward arrived safely at   
the school before turning the steering wheel   
around again to head back to the mansion   
where Hotaru and her father resided. When she   
had stayed solely at home in a cocoon-like   
existence, home-schooled, cared for, and   
wrapped up in her father's presence, she felt   
loved.   
  
  
Yet, still she knew that something   
indefinable was missing while she remained at   
home. She was gratified by the unconditional   
love and companionship her father gave her,   
and she returned it wholeheartedly. The   
medical care he provided, the tenderness that  
went along with everything that he said,   
everything that he did, was evidence enough   
for the affection of a father for his   
daughter. Hotaru never questioned that, but   
she did doubt the existence that she carried   
on after the accident - she did, after all,   
remember what the carefree life was like   
before the crippling incident. She did   
remember what it was like to celebrate a   
third birthday surrounded with friends from   
the day care, to blow the candle on the cake   
while two dozen of her friends sat around her   
laughing and cheering and clapping with glee.   
  
  
Was life supposed to be this way now -   
so alone? So... what was the word? Empty?  
  
  
No, she instinctively knew the answer to her   
rhetorical question.   
  
  
No one was supposed to live her life behind   
the confines of walls.  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
  
  
It was only when she stepped into the   
classroom that she feel the distinctive,   
irrefutable sense of exclusion, that she   
was the target of stern ostracism - whether   
it was deserved or not. It was not the vague   
sense of abnormality she perceived at the   
mansion. No, instead, the sense was much   
harsher, more stringent. When Hotaru opened   
the doors to the homeroom class she was   
assigned to, her classmates turned in her   
direction, concentrating their sight on this   
undeniably lovely girl, one they identified   
as someone their age, or a bit younger.   
Seven, perhaps? She was certainly a small   
thing, with a slim figure that made her seem   
even shorter than her actual height. Her   
dark, glittering eyes - were they lavender?   
The students wondered - were too large for   
the frame of her little face. The nose was   
small, as well, upturned but not so much   
so as for others to consider her haughty.   
Straighthair, cut at a perfect angle,   
covered her forehead, and if she were to   
look at someone tall with her head bent,   
her eyes would barely peek out from under   
the cover of her bangs.  
  
  
Such a timid creature, mouse-like except   
for the fact that one could never really   
compare her countenance with that of a   
rodent. The students watched the ailing girl   
enter the class and approach the teacher with   
her schedule. But when the girl turned her   
beautiful face toward the crowd, the   
classmates immediately shied away from her,   
turning away from Hotaru's diffident smile.   
Intuitively, the students discerned the   
unnamed illness that made this new girl's   
fingers tremor slightly and the paleness of   
her skin tone that was heightened in   
intensity by the midnight shade of her hair.   
Was that fair complexion a little too perfect  
for the normal human being? That hair   
stylized a little too straightly? Those   
fingers trembling a little too... metrically?   
  
  
A small tumult rose among the students as they   
whispered to each other.  
  
  
  
Oh my God, Becky! Look at that skin! It is so   
white!  
  
She must be one of those gothic type girls   
that I read about in my sis's mag! Ugh!   
It is so gross how pale she is!   
  
It's like she's some... I don't know,   
vampire or something. She's got that gleam   
in her eye, doesn't she?  
  
Maybe she's an albino, she's got the skin for   
it. But you're right about those eyes. Man...   
they're creepy to look at!   
  
It looks like those eyes are staring straight  
past us without seeing us!  
  
  
  
The whispers were inaudible to the teacher   
Who had asked her to introduce herself to   
the class after looking the new girl up and   
down briefly and glancing at the schedule.   
Of course, Hotaru heard them, picking up the   
words as clearly as if they were spoken   
directly to her face. Indignation hit its   
target in her mind, but she refused to let   
it show on her face. Why, these impudent,   
pathetic third graders, so easily persuaded   
by public opinion and first impressions!   
She hadn't even uttered a word before they   
deemed her the pariah of the classroom, and   
after only one look too! What? Was it just   
because she was a little too pale for them?   
Too frail to touch? She wiped the smile off   
her face, and directed her eyes forward,   
paying no heed to the uniformed figures   
that sat in the columns of chairs. Ignore   
them, she declared. Stare straight past   
them without seeing them.   
  
  
They were of no consequence.  
  
  
Hotaru quickly presented herself as a new   
student to the Mugen Gakuen Academy before   
the teacher and the class, and then   
proceeded to smoothly walk to the seat   
that the teacher had pointed out to her.   
Did she gain some sort of newfound   
confidence after she introduced herself?   
Some sort of inner will, perhaps, drove her   
to stand up to the shunning glares of her   
classmates.   
  
  
All eyes were focused on her as she   
approached the empty desk near the window,   
and a silence covered the class as all the   
voices drowned out quickly. Hotaru ignored   
the eyes and immersed herself in the   
silence. After seating herself, she turned   
her head towards the front of the classroom   
and focused on what the teacher had to   
announce for the new school year, all the   
while reminding herself: Maintain that   
cold-shoulder, keep up that indifference,   
they see nothing except the exterior.  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
AN: Blame a certain someone who will   
remain nameless for the reference   
to the Sir Mixalot song. ^^;  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Title: Firefly  
Chapter 4/?  
Author: La Fortuna  
Rating: PG-13   
July 09, 2001  
  
  
Disclaimer: SM does not belong to me.  
But the story dies. Try to take it, and   
-d-i-e- an agonizing death. -_-  
  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
With no close friend, no casual acquaintance,   
Hotaru spent the next six years of her life   
in solitude. Well, not quite complete   
solitude. Once, she felt amiss that the   
entrance gates and stone structures of her   
father's mansion had limited her world. She   
had sorely felt the deprivation of   
companions her age, people she could frolic   
with and talk about the most trivial things   
with. Now, more often than not, she wished   
that she could isolate herself entirely away   
from the distractions caused by her peers;   
she wished that she could have her own Walden.   
  
  
But it wasn't to be. Week in, week out,   
Hotaru still faced the sea of anonymous faces   
as she went through the motions of attending   
class. There were the frequent group projects   
and the extracurricular activities that her   
father encouraged her to participate in.   
These pursuits forced her to associate with   
her classmates, but otherwise, she chose to   
remain by herself; her peers gladly did the   
same. Apparently her ghastly appearance - the   
visage of a ghost, someone said - turned off   
anyone initially willing to acquaint him or   
herself with her.   
  
  
Six years after she first entered the gates   
of Mugen Gakuen Academy, Hotaru was in the   
last year of the junior high. Like many of   
her classmates, the brilliant virtuoso on the   
piano, the gifted ballet dancer, the Einstein   
prodigy in science, and the literary genius,   
Hotaru had earned a reputation for herself.   
She was the gothic girl, the eccentric one,   
and the oddball of the entire Academy. She   
was the class hermit, the recluse - the one   
pariah that no one was willing to befriend.   
Hotaru's reluctance to form any connections   
only compounded the issue. No one   
voluntarily extended a hand to offer her   
help, and no one gave her a welcoming hug   
or a farewell wave when she arrived or left   
the school building. Likewise, Hotaru never   
tried to broaden her social relationships,   
or lack thereof, by ingratiating herself   
into the cliques or the clubs. Whenever a   
project was assigned, she was randomly   
appointed to a group of students. Her   
teacher often forgot about the girl that   
sat beside the window ... or he just simply   
chose to ignore her like her classmates.   
And so, when she was not involving herself   
in a mandatory group project, she was very   
much a loner.   
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
After entering junior high, her father had   
suggested that she get some sort of work out   
to move her jointed parts by walking to the   
school. Hotaru had agreed, not readily, but   
agreed nevertheless. One day, while journeying   
to school, she had suddenly experienced a dose   
of vertigo and had fallen to her knees on the   
sidewalk. Her back bag, once full of textbooks   
and school accessories had fallen at her side,   
opened and its contents spilled. Hotaru   
grimaced as she placed her hands on the cement   
sidewalk, her shoulder length hair completely   
covering her face from view. She had torn some   
skin, probably some ligament as well, but   
while there was no pain attached to those   
injuries, the fall had disrupted her internal   
mechanical system, resulting in a pounding   
headache.  
  
  
Across the street stood two Mugen Gakuen   
students, dressed in the same uniform as   
Hotaru. They eyed the young girl who had   
fallen to the ground, only smirking and   
sneering in response. There was no mistaking   
who this freak was, of course. Ever since the   
fifth grade, Mugen Gakuen students had derived   
some perverted pleasure in watching Hotaru   
Tomoe cringe - it was a tradition carried on   
even now in the eighth grade. While Hotaru was   
never attired in anything other than the   
standard uniform required by the academy, an   
invisible scarlet letter was always pinned to   
her chest, identifying her as the outcast, the   
one to be criticized. Old students were the   
ringleaders of the groups that chose to mock   
Hotaru, and new students quickly gathered that   
associating with this pale girl would not help   
them on the social hierarchy ladder.  
  
  
She had remained on the ground, and the two   
girls continued to sneer at her. A single   
tear appeared at the edge of her left eye,   
and Hotaru felt a sort of disgust with herself   
for not being able to completely ignore her   
classmates. Of course it still hurt to hear   
their obscene comments. The occasional snide   
comment about her physical ailments and the   
assumption that her father must have   
neglected her unmistakably cut into Hotaru's   
very soul. No matter how much the sword jagged   
into her heart and twisted, Hotaru promised   
herself that she would only let the insults   
and injuries hurt her to a certain point.   
Still, she regretted that her father hadn't   
removed her tear ducts as well when the droplet   
moved slowly across her cheek, painting a   
salty, glistening trail down her face, and   
another soon followed the same path.   
  
  
Another unbearable ache caused Hotaru to pucker   
her brows together in mental agony. She heard   
the snicker from the girls several meters away   
as vividly as if they were only a few   
centimeters from her ears. Resentment rose like   
a black cloud within her, and a tightly   
clenched hand reached forward, unfurled, and   
grasped the metal-encased pencil case that had   
fallen from her back bag. Hotaru crushed the   
case in anger, pinching it at the center,   
relieving some of her pain physically. The   
girls must have seen this, for she heard the   
gasps uttered from their mouths. Not a second   
later, the sound of footsteps quickening on  
the pavement reached her ears.  
  
  
At least they didn't see her tears.  
  
  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
  
  
  



End file.
